


Four's a Crowd

by literaryempress



Series: Max and Isaac's Infinite Storybook [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Family, Family Fluff, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Married Couple, Mpreg, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 21:12:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5142608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryempress/pseuds/literaryempress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian and Mickey welcome a second newborn into their family and into the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four's a Crowd

It wasn’t a part of the plan for Mickey to wake up at almost three in the morning to an uncomfortable feeling in his abdomen. Then again, nothing’s really part of the plan when it comes to pregnancies, but one can’t blame a guy for wishing and hoping.

The first person to realize something was going on besides him was his three and a half-year-old son, Max. The little guy was well out of his diapers and into training wheels at this point in his life, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t smart. No, he could sense the signs of a dilemma whenever one came across.

Like early that morning, for example. He was just about to tip-toe into the kitchen and see if he could refill his cup with some water when he heard someone groaning in the dining room. It almost started the little guy at first because he wasn’t expecting anyone to be awake, but then he realized that someone – that someone being Mickey – was in deep pain, and Max had to investigate it.

Sure enough, Mickey was standing there in front of one of the dining room chairs, gripping onto the back of it and shutting his eyes closed when he felt movements inside him. Max couldn’t help but stare at the baby bump hidden underneath Mickey’s short-sleeved pajama shirt. His baby brother was probably getting restless in there.

“Dad?” Max timidly called, still hiding behind the archway leading into the dining room. He sounded a little scared, for Mickey never looked like he was in that much pain before.

Mickey winced a couple of times before he placed a hand on his back and turned towards his redheaded son, only a few strands of hair and a little, green eye visible from afar. “H-hey, little man,” Mickey managed to get out, his arms shaking a bit as he held onto the chair. The contractions were starting to get a little unbearable to the point where Mickey wasn’t even sure if he could sleep or not.

Max fumbled with the little cup in his hand and asked, “are you alright?”

Mickey gulped at his son’s sudden concern for his health. He was only so young, after all, but he had a giant heart of gold. He bore a kindness he saw in Ian every day since the two first met. “Y-yeah, son.” Mickey sniffled a little. “I’m fine.”

Mickey knew that was a lie; hell, Max didn’t look like he believed him one second. Mickey wanted to convince him that he really was doing okay, but the little fetus rolling around inside of him won’t sit still for one damn minute.

“Do you want me to wake up Daddy?” he asked, evident shyness in his tone.

With his hand still on his back, Mickey shuffled across the room towards his and Ian’s master bedroom, shutting his eyes whenever he felt a little uncomfortable. “No, no, no,” Mickey muttered out to the little boy with a sigh. “I’ll be fine, Max. Just –“ The baby was violently kicking, and Mickey prayed secretly for him to stop. “Get some more shut-eye, will ya?”

Mickey made it to the doorway of the bedroom when Max nodded, keeping his eyes on his father as he made his way towards the kitchen for his cup of water.

The raven-haired man was just about to walk on over to his side of the bed to lay back down when he started feeling some more pain. He let out a groan, trying his hardest not to wake Ian up and make him suspect that something was wrong. Mickey’s a strong man; he literally beat the shit out of the neighborhood kids, got open scars because of it, and never shed a single tear. He was fearless. He didn’t let anything stop him, and to this day, he still wouldn’t.

Contractions were a bitch to overcome, though. Mickey didn’t understand how women did the whole giving birth thing, nor did he understand why Ian thought it was a good idea to check in with the clinics and see if he could carry the baby himself after the news got out that men with certain blood types could even carry living fetuses in their bodies. Mickey got that Ian wanted to have a second baby with Mickey’s genetics; he just found it strange for him to have this thing weighing him down.

 _Shit_. There was another one. Mickey’s toes curled at the feel of it. The pain was very sharp. How he wasn’t dying right now, he wasn’t entirely sure. If this baby was anything like Mickey, he’s probably trying to twist up the damn umbilical cord just to fuck around with his own dad. Fucking rascal.

Ian’s eyes opened sleepily, sensing the noises in the room. He frowned at the sight of Mickey gripping onto the dresser in front of him as the baby started to cause more trouble on his aching body.

“Mickey?” Ian asked, sitting up in the bed and taking note of Mickey’s pained facial expressions. He was out of the bed quicker than he thought he would be, worry on his own face as he watched his husband take on another contraction.

“Mickey, what’s wrong?” the redhead asked, placing a hand on Mickey’s back and trying to get a good look at his eyes. All he got back was a groan from the back of Mickey’s throat. “Did your water break? How much are you hurting right now?” Ian had so many questions, and Mickey wasn’t sure if he was going to answer them all if their baby boy was going to keep acting a fool in there.

Ian shook his head and walked over to the closet, taking out some clothes for himself and Mickey. “I’m taking you to the hospital,” he muttered under his breath. Unfortunately, Mickey could still hear him, and Ian was just secretly waiting for the incoming pleads to come out of his mouth.

“Ian, I’m fine,” Mickey spoke through gritted teeth. His knuckles were getting whiter as he gripped onto the edge of the dresser.

“I’m not taking any chances, Mick.”

“My water didn’t even break yet.”

Ian threw off his pajama pants and replaced them with some dark jeans. “I’m not waiting until that happens.”

Mickey’s forehead fell to his arms, both still pressing against the dresser top. Just fucking great. He’s out of bed for as little as about fifteen to twenty minutes, and already Ian’s up and trying to get him into the car. A part of Mickey wanted to poke his head in between his legs and shout to his son, “look what you’re fucking doing to me!” Luckily, he decided against it, for that would have been especially weird on his part.

“Let me get your shirt on,” he heard Ian say, and Mickey started to groan again.

“I can dress myself, thank you very much.”

Ian inched an eyebrow on his forehead, realizing that Mickey finally gave into getting dressed for the hospital. “Alright then, tough guy.” Mickey’s neck and cheeks got red at the nickname; usually Mickey would use it on Ian, not vice versa.

A dark gray shirt was thrown in Mickey’s direction, and he started to remove the pajama shirt from over his throbbing stomach. When the thing was completely off, he took a moment to glance down at his form. Mickey often felt insecure about himself when he put on even a little weight – then again, he was always going to feel insecure compared to Ian, who managed to gain more and more muscle from all the running and exercising he does – so when he saw how big his baby bump had gotten, he couldn’t help but look disgusted.

“I look like shit, man.” Mickey complained putting his head through the collar of his other shirt. It was big enough to fit around the bump perfectly without making Mickey feel uncomfortable.

Ian smiled at him, strolling over to wrap his arms around his shorter body. “You’re never gonna look like shit to me.” He placed a chaste kiss on Mickey’s cheek.

“Easy for you to say.”

Ian was just about to give Mickey a pair of pants to wear when he was taken aback by Mickey leaning over and biting down on his bottom lip with force. The baby was playing around in there, from what Ian could tell, and as much as he enjoys knowing that his soon-to-be newborn son was having a blast, Mickey needed a moment to rest his back before something were to seriously happen.

“Here,” Ian told him, grabbing one of Mickey’s hands and guiding him to the bed. “I’ll help you with your pants.”

“Ian, seriously?”

“You can’t bend over too much, Mick. You’ll hurt the baby.”

That was unfortunately true, and the last thing Mickey wanted to do was to harm his own child.

So he did as he was told, watching as Ian removed his pajama pants, leaving Mickey to stand in just his boxers. He carefully sat on the mattress and allowed Ian to put one leg into his outdoor pants at a time. They both almost didn’t notice Max standing in the doorway of their room.

“Daddy?” the redheaded boy called. He was trying to get some more sleep, but the noises from the other room made him a little curious.

Ian turned around and met his son’s equally green eyes. “Max, go get dressed.”

“Is Dad having the baby?”

“Nah, I’m being held against my will.” Ian whirled back around just to slap Mickey upside the head.

After a second of playfulness between the two, Ian walked over to Max and lifted him up off the floor. “Come on, pumpkin. Let’s find you something to throw on.” Both redheads left the master bedroom and into Max’s bedroom, leaving Mickey to sit on the bed and rub his cotton-covered belly.

* * *

“I look like an idiot.” Mickey grumbled as the nurse pushed him in a wheelchair towards his room. Ian followed, holding a sleepy Max in his arms.

“Hospital procedure, Mick. Besides, before we came here, you looked like you were about to fall on your face.” Mickey rolled his eyes in response, and all Ian could do was chuckle at his grumpy husband.

All four of them made it into one of the hospital delivery rooms. Ian could already see a gown sitting on the bed just for Mickey to put on. “Okay, Mickey,” the nurse spoke, stopping his wheelchair by the bed, “if you can just change out of your clothes for me and slip this on, we can get you prepared for the IVs.” With that, she was gone, leaving the family in the room by themselves.

Ian walked over to the couch to place Max down for a nap while Mickey picked up the robe and observed it in his hands. “Jesus,” he muttered out, shaking his head.

When Max was starting to fall asleep, his eyes facing the back of the couch, Ian turned back towards his husband. “Here, let me help you out.” He took the robe from Mickey and threw it back on the bed, lifting the shirt from over Mickey’s head. Ian watched him carefully as Mickey winced from the little bit of pain he was feeling in his back.

“I called Mandy and Fiona and told them we would be here,” Ian spoke, getting Mickey’s legs out of his pants.

Mickey scoffed. “Great. Now my own sister is gonna look at me with my damn legs open like I’m some fuckin’ prostitute.”

“I told her to be supportive, Mick, because I knew you would say something like that.”

“Her definition of _supportive_ isn’t what you’re used to.” Ian laughed. It always comforted Mickey when he did that.

Once Mickey was out of his clothes and into his gown, Ian brought his clothes over to the couch, folding them and putting them in a bag he brought with them to the hospital. When he turned back around, he noticed Mickey leaning against the bed, his hands gripping fiercely at the edge.

“You feel alright, Mick?”

“Yeah,” Mickey gasped out. His eyes were closed and his arm started to shake a bit again. “I just…”

Ian didn’t give him time to finish his sentence, for he walked on over and held onto Mickey’s hand, guiding him on the bed to lay down. “You really need to rest your back.”

Mickey’s eyes trained down to the baby bump before him. “Yeah,” he sighed, giving in. “I probably should.” Ian could sense the disappointment in Mickey’s voice. He knew how much he liked doing things on his own, but with the baby and all, it was better to be safe than sorry.

The redhead reached a hand out to Mickey’s, softly caressing it with his thumb. “It’s gonna be alright,” Ian assured him. “This will be all over before you know it, and we’ll have another son in the house.”

Mickey was still for a moment before a smile etched on his face. “Yeah,” he replied, squeezing Ian’s hand just a little. He looked down at his baby bump again, bringing a hand up to rub it softly, feeling the little boy’s kicks against his stomach. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

* * *

About a few hours later, once Mickey was hooked up to everything and the doctors let Ian know about the rest of the procedure, Mickey fell asleep in the bed. Ian sat on the couch, allowing Max to sleep on his lap. Truth be told, Ian was exhausted as well, but he wanted to be awake in case anything were to happen.

He looked up for a moment as Fiona stepped foot in the room. She whispered a hello, aware that Mickey was snoozing off in the middle of the room, and tip-toed her way towards the couch to give her little brother a hug. “Have you guys really been here that long?” Fiona asked curiously, sitting on Ian’s other side and placing her purse in her lap.

“The doctor gave him the IVs and stuff,” Ian explained, rubbing Max’s hair as gently as he could. “His back was hurting for a while, and they wanted to give him something to stop the pain.”

Fiona nodded, taking a turn in running her hands through her nephew’s hair. Ian glanced down at him and giggled a bit. “Max was already up this morning, too. Didn’t get much sleep.”

Fiona smiled. “Poor little guy,” she cooed, and her brother started to laugh, softly so Max could slumber. “I can’t believe you’re having another kid.”

“Mickey wanted a baby that looked like me, and we’ve been living with him for a few years now,” Ian stated, rubbing Max’s back and watching as he curled up with the teddy bear in his arms. “I wanted to return the favor. I wanted a little guy running around the house with Mickey’s cranky frown and his blue eyes and all of that.”

His sister nodded again, wrapping her arm around Ian and resting her head on his shoulder. Some of her brunette strands tickled the side of Ian’s face. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in a hospital for this particular reason,” she stated casually, grazing her fingers over some strand’s of Ian’s red hair.

“Liam?” Ian asked, an image of a younger Liam Gallagher forming in his mind. God, did he miss that curly-haired little boy or what?

“Carl.” Fiona clarified. She gave her brother a knowing look. “You know, because Liam’s birth was so unexpected?” Ian nodded, suddenly remembering the story of how Monica came to drop off Liam and never returning after that. “I wasn’t sure if Monica was even really wanting to have a fifth child. She ran off so many times in her life; I swear, the neighborhood would consider it to be old news.” Ian agreed with a chuckle.

Fiona sighed, casting her eyes down at her nephew. “She was always talking about how she loved having the opportunity of raising her own kids and being the best mom ever thought possible,” she continued, “only to carry on with her shenanigans and make false promises.” She paused. “How do you think we ended up on the sidewalk that day when we left the fair?”

Ian remembered that day – or at least remembered Fiona talking about it. He, Fiona, and Lip were all promised that they were going on vacation one summer. Monica was ecstatic about it and actually made it believable to the kids back then. However, that was during one of her highs. They made it as far as downtown Chicago, and Monica left Fiona, Lip, and Ian at the fair so she could join a couple of guys at a bar and watch a championship football game.

That was one of the many times where Fiona had to help get her brothers home, though it definitely wasn’t the first.

“You came a long way from all of this, Ian,” Fiona concluded, keeping her eyes locked on Ian’s. “Look at where your life is now. You’re happily married, living in your own place, have a _kid_ of your own –“

“With one more on the way,” Ian added.

Fiona smiled. “Right.” She and Ian shared a laugh. The laughter died down a bit, and Fiona sat up straight and took a strand of Ian’s hair out of his face. “You two are doing great with Max,” she continued sincerely. “I know you’re going to do well with another baby. I mean, you’re great with kids, and Mickey’s been taking half of the reigns and making sure that the two of you and Max are up on your feet, right?”

Ian shrugged. “I love him, Fiona,” was all he stated simply. “He changed a lot of things for me. I don’t know what I would do without him.”

Fiona’s heart increased two times its own size at hearing her little brother’s words. She was proud of Ian and Mickey for working things out. A part of her wished that she could take any advice from them and take a time machine back to a few years so she could have a relationship as healthy and understanding as theirs. It wasn’t possible to turn back time and make all of that work out, but she was at least blessed that Ian was happy.

After a moment, Fiona brought both of her arms around Ian and embraced him in a small hug. Ian hugged her back with one arm, aware that Max was still asleep on his lap. “Thanks, Fiona.” Ian could almost feel tears form in his eyes.

“No problem, kiddo.”

* * *

Another couple of hours had passed, and Mickey was finally awake from his slumber. Unfortunately, his water didn’t break yet, and the medication he was given earlier started to wear off. He could nearly feel the baby rolling around inside of him again, and the area in between his legs started feeling a little sore as he felt the kid attempt to move a little more south.

The nurse from earlier suggested that Mickey pace around a little bit to induce labor since he was right around the range of time where it was okay to do so. So that’s what they did – or at least tried.

They had been pacing back and forth in the room and out in the hallway for a few moments, but not too much, for it would make Mickey even more tired than he already was. With every step Mickey took, Ian would always be there, holding a hand or an arm to keep him steady. “Come on, Mick.” Ian guided him. “Steady…”

Mickey started feeling a little uncomfortable as they continued, rubbing his stomach every so often whenever he felt another contraction coming along. At one point, he had stopped their movements to cringe through another one, bracing himself with the help of Ian’s hand.

Ian rubbed Mickey’s shoulder to grab his attention. “Mick, are you alright?” he asked carefully.

Mickey groaned. “How do you expect me to be fucking alright?” It took Ian aback because he wasn’t expecting Mickey to get mad at him, but then again, this basically clarified all of the fictional births he had seen in movies and television.

Neither one of them had said anything, for the force going through Mickey’s body made it harder for him to walk. A second later, he let go of Ian’s hand and walked over to the wall next to his delivery room door. He didn’t do anything else; he just stood there, and Ian was starting to get concerned again.

“Mickey?” No answer. Ian watched as Mickey brought both of his hands up to the wall and pressed his palms up against it. If he was having another contraction, Ian couldn’t really tell from where he was standing.

The redhead stepped over towards Mickey, trying to make out his facial expressions. “Mick?” Ian asked softly, putting a hand on Mickey’s back. That’s when Mickey suddenly lost it as he leaned his forehead against the wall and let out several tears, all of them falling down on his hospital gown.

Ian’s heart dropped at the sight of him. He himself wouldn’t understand what it was like when women were in labor like that, but it hurt just as much watching the love of his life breaking down because the pain from the baby was too much.

“Mickey, come here.” Ian whispered to the shorter man, turning him by the shoulder for a moment so he could get a better look at Mickey’s face. The man in question turned his face back to the wall, ashamed that he was crying in the hallway in front of Ian and probably a few other people wandering around.

Still, Ian grabbed his chin and got him to look Ian in the eye before Ian wrapped his arms around him for a soft hug. Mickey sobbed a little in Ian’s embrace as the taller man rubbed circles on his back. “I get it, Mick,” Ian finally spoke after their moment of silence, continuously rubbing Mickey’s back for comfort. “I get how bad this is hurting for you right now.”

Mickey sniffled. “Speak for yourself,” he spoke. His voice was a little high from the emotional turmoil he was experiencing.

Ian nodded, keeping his temple against Mickey’s. “You don’t realize how amazing you are.” He paused, looking at Mickey from the side. “Do you know how amazing I think you are, Mickey?” Ian rubbed Mickey’s right shoulder in encouragement. “You’re Mickey Milkovich, the biggest ass-kicker in the entire South Side of Chicago.”

Mickey laughed for a little bit, holding onto Ian for balance and comfort. Ian didn’t laugh; he was as serious about his words as he was about their relationship, and he wouldn’t dare to take them back. “And yeah, this little baby of ours is kicking your ass really good in there –“

“Damn right, he is.”

“But this won’t last for long,” Ian continued. “He’ll be welcomed into the world before we know it, and you’ll be back to normal in no time.” He paused again, giving him a few more back rubs and a long, soft kiss on the cheek. Finally, he lifted his chin off of his shoulder and looked into Mickey’s blue eyes. “Okay?” he croaked.

Mickey bit his bottom lip and nodded. “Yeah, okay.” Ian nodded in response, and the two of them leaned forward to give each other a chaste kiss on the lips.

Soon after, Ian was holding onto Mickey’s arm again for guidance. “Okay, let’s just walk a little bit more.”

And that’s what they did. Ian would always tell Mickey to go slowly so he won’t trip or anything, and Mickey did as he was told. It wasn’t until about a few minutes later that they both stopped in the middle of the hall, Mickey looking ahead with a shocked look on his face as he lightly pressed a hand against his stomach.

“Shit,” he muttered out, eyes trailing down to the ground as he felt something wet in between his legs. Ian followed his gaze, and his eyes popped out of their sockets. He didn’t waste a second hailing down one of the nurses in the hall, letting her know that Mickey’s water broke and that the baby would be coming any moment.

This was Mickey’s least favorite part. He wasn’t sure how, but the contractions felt much worse this time around. He almost had a hard time moving around when the nurses helped him back into his room and onto the bed. His whole body shook as he felt his little boy pressing further down inside of him.

About three nurses were in the room as soon as Mickey was situated back on the hospital bed. They set up all of the necessary tools they needed for when the baby would be born while Ian stood by the bed, watching helplessly as Mickey winced at the sudden pain.

“Ian.” Mickey grunted.

“Mickey, it’s gonna be alright,” Ian encouraged. “Just keep breathing.”

“How the fuck can I keep breathing when I –“ Out of nowhere, a yell escaped Mickey’s mouth by the sudden contraction. “Shit,” he grimaced, placing one hand on his belly and the other on his waste, trying to relieve himself from the sharp shock. Ian gulped at the sight of him, wishing there was something he could do to rid the pain completely.

A blonde nurse looked over at him and rushed to his side, placing a gloved hand on Mickey’s arm. “Mickey, don’t push just yet. We’re almost there.”

The sudden intensity in the room started to make Mickey feel uncomfortable. It was like all of Ian’s words from a few minutes ago started to lose their effect. He wanted to believe that he was strong enough to go through with this, but it was really fucking hard.

Ian grabbed a chair that had been sitting by the door and brought it to the side of the bed, taking a seat and grabbing onto Mickey’s right hand. “Mickey, look at me.” He ordered, and the shorter man slowly turned in his direction, ache taking over his facial features. “You can do this,” Ian continued lowly and sure of himself. “I believe in you, okay? I’ll be right here the whole time. I promise.”

“You fuckin’ better be.” Ian smiled a little as Mickey’s features softened up a little.

* * *

Before either Ian or Mickey knew it, it was time for Mickey to start pushing. One of the nurses told him that she was going to count to ten, and as she did so, Mickey had to provide a long push for her. It sounded easier than it actually was, which prompted Mickey to give it a go.

His hand was squeezing the life out of Ian’s hand, but Ian didn’t care. They’ve both been through pain before, so it wasn’t like it was anything new. “One…two…three…four…” The nurse counted a little slower than Mickey predicted, and it was hard for him to push for ten consecutive seconds without stopping.

“Five…six…seven…eight…”

Mickey gave up for a brief moment after the eight-second mark with a grunt, visibly shaking a bit as the baby was pressing hard against him. Sweat came down from his hair lining to his forehead, prompting Ian to wipe it off with a towel.

“I got you, Mick. Keep going.” Ian whispered to him, still holding onto Mickey’s arm.

The pain went from bad to worse within minutes. The damn baby was literally stretching him open like he was a rubber band down there, and Mickey wondered to himself how he didn’t die or rip in half yet. More sweat fell down his face, and his hold on Ian’s hand began to weaken. He wasn’t even sure if he was gonna make it.

Ian gulped at the sight of distress written all over Mickey’s face. He was at the point where he was straining to sit up and then lie back down again, twisting around a bit as the excruciating pain got the best of him. Two of the nurses had to hold Mickey down so he won’t make too much movement and cause any damage, but it was such a heartbreaking sight, in Ian’s eyes.

“The head’s almost out, Mickey,” the nurse in front of him called over his cries. “Push!”

Tears came out of Mickey’s eyes as he tried to regain the oxygen in his system. He got a good grip on Ian’s hand before his eyes shut once again, and a long groan escaped Mickey’s throat as he pushed as much as he could. It was at a high pitch, not usually what Ian was used to, which made Ian feel a bit nervous.

“You’re doing really well,” the blonde nurse told Mickey, rubbing his arm softly. “Just one more push, okay?” At that, Ian adjusted his hold onto Mickey’s hand, bracing himself for when he was ready to push another time.

Mickey’s bottom lip was trembling, and Ian hated the sight of that. Mickey was more vulnerable now than he ever was, which was a bit new to Ian despite the fact that they’ve been together for years.

Finally, with the last bit of strength Mickey had in him, he squeezed Ian’s hand as hard as he could, his eyebrows furrowing together as he applied more force. The moment he heard a little wail at the other end of the bed, he collapsed his head on the pillow, allowing a couple of tears to leave his halfway-open eyes.

Ian looked over to the foot of the bed where the nurse was cutting the baby’s cord off, and then he looked over at Mickey, grabbing the towel and wiping the sweat and tears off his face. “Mick,” he whispered softly, careful not to make too much noise to disturb Mickey’s sudden wave of comfort. A smile grew on Ian’s face. “You did it.”

Mickey struggled to open his eyes for a moment, but when he did, he got the best view of Ian’s proud facial expression, bright green eyes and all. Here was the one person he wanted to do all of this for, smiling his pale, freckly ass off at his exhausted husband, and it made Mickey forget all about the difficult process he just endured. Ian was right; it was all over before he knew it.

* * *

Ian had left the room after a couple of moments and momentarily brought Max back in the room with him. Both men and Max looked over at one of the nurses holding the crying baby in her arms, all wrapped up in a light blue blanket and a hat on top of his tiny head. Ian’s smile grew some more – if it was even humanly possible – as the baby was placed into Mickey’s arms.

Mickey ran a finger against the baby’s cheek and smiled, almost getting emotional over the fact that his little guy is finally out in the real world. “Hey, bud,” Mickey greeted him, caressing his cheek some more as the baby’s cries started to slow down some. “It’s nice to see ya.”

Ian leaned closer to Mickey and got a good look at the baby’s little face. He definitely had Mickey’s bright, blue eyes and his little scowl – everything about Mickey that Ian admired about him since the day they first met. He was perfect, a perfect little infant version of the man he loves.

“That’s my little brother?” Max asked, suddenly fascinated with the tiny body in Mickey’s possession.

Mickey glanced up and grinned. “Yep, here he is, son.”

Ian and Max stood on the other side of Mickey’s bed, taking a good look at the little boy in the bright, blue blanket. Ian could feel himself crying a little bit as he gazed into the tiny infant’s eyes, captivated by how they were able to create someone as precious as he was now.

“Hey, little guy,” Ian cooed, placing a hand on top of the child’s head. “I’m your other daddy. I’m very glad you’re here.”

Mickey grinned as he watched the baby reach his tiny fingers over for Ian’s thumb. They were so tiny and fragile, and it broke Mickey’s heart into pieces. “I think he likes you, Ian.”

Ian turned to Mickey and then back to the baby. “You think?”

“It’s kinda hard not to.” Both men laughed, watching as their newborn son cuddled into the crook of Mickey’s arm. “You got a big brother sittin' over here, bud.” Mickey paused, giving the baby a knowing look. “You two better get along. Max is the jealous type.”

Max innocently looked over at Mickey. “I’m not jealous.”

Mickey cocked an eyebrow on Max’s head. “Oh really? You didn’t say that when you wanted to decorate the house last Christmas like the one you saw when we were driving through town.”

Ian giggled at the exchange between Mickey and Max. The former turned back to the baby, rubbing his little side. “And you already gave your papa a hard time while you were still down there.”

Ian couldn’t keep the smile off his face for one minute. Just watching Mickey bond with his newborn baby made his heart swell too much for words. He leaned over to Mickey and placed a kiss to his temple before kissing the baby on his forehead. “What are we gonna name him?”

Mickey glanced up at Ian. “Anything’s better than Phillip.” He laughed the moment Ian deadpanned in his direction before looking down into his son’s bright, baby blue eyes, watching as he reached his hands up in Mickey’s direction. “I’ve been thinking about Isaac.”

Ian’s eyebrows inched up at the name. “What made you think of Isaac?”

Mickey shrugged. “Dunno. He just looks like one.”

Ian gazed back down at the baby in Mickey’s arms and smiled. “I like that.”

Max reached over to his little brother, grabbing one of his tiny hands as the baby beckoned him over. “My brother’s name is Isaac?”

“Sure is,” Mickey answered, looking between both of his little boys.

Ian scooted a little closer towards the three of them and placed his head against Mickey’s shoulder. “Welcome to the world, Isaac. We can’t wait to take you home,” Ian cooed, and Mickey smiled in response, rubbing a hand over the baby’s wrapped body and enjoying the few minutes of Isaac’s little baby noises and tiny limb movements.

**Author's Note:**

> And just so we're clear, this is my first mpreg story. I don't usually write mpreg because I find it confusing still, even after the first time I found out it existed. I only wrote this one because the idea was in my head and that I can only really imagine mpreg fics with Gallavich for some odd reason.
> 
> Also, reminder: these are stand-alone, future fics. So I can freely change how Isaac was brought into the world (just in case anyone asks).
> 
> And, as always, you are free to hit me up with prompts, if you wish, at my [Tumblr](http://promqueen-and-hairgel.tumblr.com/).


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